


Just Friends

by one_golden_sun



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crushes, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun/pseuds/one_golden_sun
Summary: “Platonic fun flirting. He’s French, can be a bit...touchy feely,” John finally managed to grit out.“Yeah, ok,” Alex snorted. “Like I believe that. John Laurens, engaging in some ‘just friends’ neck kissing.”John frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinkyForShort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinkyForShort/gifts).



> Totally inspired by @MinkyForShort's Fic [Absolutely Smitten](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10756182/chapters/23851209)
> 
> Thanks for letting me play in your verse, sweetie! <3

“So, I’m still kinda pissed you didn’t tell me about Lafayette sooner, dude,” Alex said by way of a greeting. It was a Thursday, and John had just shrugged on his uniform shirt, had barely buttoned it up when Alex rounded on him.

John sniffed noncommittally, started restacking the glassware someone (Alex) had haphazardly pushed against the bar. “I didn’t tell you anything because there’s literally nothing to tell.”

The wet cloth Alex was using to wipe down the bar top made a surprisingly loud THWACK as it hit the wood. The look Alex gave John was equal parts gleeful and incredulous. “Nothing to tell? Laurens, I caught the both of you in the storage closet, kissing--”

“Keep your voice down, Ham, Jesus fucking Christ,” John hissed, his cheeks blooming pink. He glared at his friend, looked around the empty lounge. “Tell the whole world!”

Alex chuckled. “Paranoid,” he sang. “No one’s even here!”

“Ok, well it doesn’t matter, because like I said, there’s nothing to tell. We weren’t kissing...just…”

“Necking? Canoodling? Heavy petting? Whatever you wanna call it.”

John just pinched his lips and shook his head. Why was Alex always so fucking nosy, and why couldn’t he sense John didn’t want to talk about this. Especially not with him. Sure, his unrequited feelings for Alex had fizzled out years ago, but there were still...moments...that could be painful. Like a wound that had scarred over, but might be tender if prodded. But honestly, talking to Alex about whatever was or wasn’t happening with Lafayette made everything feel...icky. 

“Platonic fun flirting. He’s French, can be a bit...touchy feely,” John finally managed to grit out. 

“Yeah, ok,” Alex snorted. “Like I believe that. John Laurens, engaging in some ‘just friends’ neck kissing.” 

John frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

But Alex just continued to laugh under his breath, shake his head. 

***  
The thing was Lafayette was confusing. John struggled to tell when Laf was flirting with him, or when it was just him being...himself. Sure, there was the physical affection. Lafayette liked to hug, touch his arm, his back. And yeah, a few times in private places, it went beyond hugging. Like in the broom closet, when Laf came up behind him, wrapped his arms around his waist, breathy French in his ear, lips whisper soft on his neck. It was hard to tell what he wanted, what it all meant. 

Because what Alex said was right. He might not have spelled it out, but John got his gist. John never did casual stuff. He’d only slept with a handful of guys, and (with the exception of one ill-thought-out drunken hook up with a stranger he picked up at a gay bar) they had all been his boyfriends. John needed commitment, trust and emotional connection before he could reach that step with a guy. So, Lafayette soaring into his life, it bewildered him. 

And while they hadn’t slept together, the hugging, the touching, that the lips on the neck move, was not what John would classify as friendly behavior. But Lafayette had never asked him out, their text message interaction was relatively tame, and they continued to sort of dance around each other. 

John got to work early on Friday, hoping for some quiet to help him settle his mind. Since Schuyler’s was open so late on the weekends, John’s coworkers usually waited until the last possible second to show up. So while John was restocking his garnishes, when he heard a voice he looked up, shocked. 

“Sup, Laurens?” Charles Lee sauntered up, flinging a towel over his shoulder. John glowered. 

“The fuck you doing here?” John snapped. “Schuyler fired your ass weeks ago--”

“And your little butt buddy called out on a Friday night, so Old Man Schuyler gave me a call. Could use a few extra bucks, so why not.”

John just glared. There was no use giving Lee any ammo against him. It would be simple to work silently alongside him, as long as Lee didn’t say anything stupid, he could behave. 

Of course, the night started all wrong. Lafayette came in, looking gorgeous in black skinny jeans and a cherry red blazer. And instead of coming over to say hi, he simply threw him a smouldering look from across the lounge, before setting up his station. It was just enough to gobsmack him, distract him, but the lack of follow through had him doubting. He fucked up two drinks, a customer got pissed when he didn’t serve her fast enough, and he realized he undercharged a group who ordered several rounds of shots. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that he was flustered, between Lafayette’s magnetic presence and the infuriating return of Lee. 

At least on a busy Friday, time passed quickly. The crew seemed eager to get out fast, and soon it was just John and Lee. The place looked like a bomb hit it (Lee’s bartending style was always haphazard and sloppy) and John was mopping up what looked like a puddle of grenadine. 

“Right, so, I’m gonna split,” Lee said, after he counted out his half of tips. “Later, Laurens.”

“Dude!” John said quickly, looking up. “You can’t leave, the place is destroyed, I need help!”

Lee yawned, leered at him. “I figured you didn’t mind staying late, ya know, figuring you don’t have anyone to go home to.”

John was speechless; he just stared at Lee in shock, rage racing through his veins. 

“Or am I wrong? Did you finally pull on your big boy panties, and actually talk to Frenchie? Move past the goo goo eyes and sad lonely boner stage? No, of course you didn’t. Guess there’s always an empty alleyway somewhere you can go kneel in.” 

“Get the fuck out,” John sighed. It wasn’t worth blowing up, that’s exactly what Lee would want. “Just go, Lee, I got it.”

Lee cuffed him on the shoulder on his way out. As soon as John was alone, he tossed his mop to the side, went to lay his head on the counter. He felt like absolute garbage. If Lee had detected his...infatuation? crush? on Lafayette, than surely it was obvious to everyone. Including Lafayette himself. 

“You’re a joke,” John seethed to himself. “Stupid, ugly, clumsy--” As he counted off the ways he was inadequate, two things became crystal clear to him. Of course no one would stay to help him, why would they? And no wonder Lafayette didn’t actually want him. He had been relegated to a “work husband,” an object for flirtation and attention, nothing more. 

He finished mopping (“brainless, boring” chanting in his head), carried the dirtied glassware back to kitchen, then managed to break not one but two champagne flutes. “Can’t do anything fucking right,” he grumbled to himself, going to sweep up the glass. Something about the tinkling sound the shards made as he dumped them into the trash can set him off, and a sob hitched in his throat. 

“Shit,” he cursed at himself, his sinuses burning, eyes stinging. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. What was he even crying over? The fact that what Lee said was right, he didn’t have anyone to go home to? There was no shame in that, but… 

Ok, but why would Lafayette corner him in the storage closet, basically snuggle him, kiss his neck, then practically ignore him for the next few days? _He didn’t even kiss you,_ his helpful brain reminded him. Was it a joke? A prank? Did he miss his chance completely? Did getting that close make Laf realize exactly who...and what...he was, and it changed his mind from attraction to repulsion? Was it some kind of weird French thing he just didn’t get? 

He had spend a good bit of time in front of the mirror that very morning, examining the angles of his face, his collections of freckles, his untamable hair. He had determined he wasn’t horrible looking, but next to someone like Lafayette, well… There really wasn’t a contest? Laf was literally the most beautiful person John had ever seen in person, and even though they had worked together for a year now, his looks still caught him off guard. 

Yup. He was stupid to even entertain the notion Laf would harbor a passing interest in someone like him. The tears were falling now, and he absently scrubbed at the bar top, staring off into one spot. 

“Are you trying to remove the finish off of the bar?” said a voice conversationally, and John practically dropped the cloth. Lafayette was standing before him, looking flawless as ever, smiling as he watched John. But as soon as their eyes met, his grin dropped. “Oh. Oh, you are upset. Mon petit, what has made these tears flow?” 

John actually had to snort at that. “Tears flow?” It was like his life was a bad romantic comedy, without the happy ending. 

“You know my meaning. Who has made you cry?” Lafayette frowned. “Was it Charles? Was he bothering you again?”

“No,” John lied. “Just. Left this huge mess. I’m tired, wanna go home. And ok, Lee was a dick, but what else is new.”

Lafayette came around the other side of the bar, plucked a second rag from the towel bar and swiped it down counter. “Messes and Lee being himself are not usual things to make you so sad, cherie. Now, will you tell me or have me guess?” 

“Look, it’s not important, just go home. I got this.” 

So Lafayette set down the rag, studied him for a moment. John squirmed under the scrutiny, looked away. 

Then, without warning, Lafayette pulled him into a hug. This was different than the storage closet. It was more tender somehow. Lafayette actually held him snug to his broad chest. He could smell him this close, like warm vanilla and lavender, feel how soft his shirt was.

“Does this help?” With his ear pressed to Laf’s chest, the words sort of rumbled through him, and the closeness was enough to stopper his tears, it shocked him so much. 

“Maybe sort of,” John replied. “But it also is confusing.” 

Lafayette didn’t ask him to elaborate, just continued to hold him, one hand stroking the back of his neck, playing with the baby curls that didn’t fit in his bun. John feared saying anything else would break the spell, and Laf would let go of him, walk out. He let his eyes drift shut, just focused on Laf’s warmth, his hand in his hair, the beating of his heart. This was nice. This he could get used to. This he could pretend was his, even for just a few moment. 

Then a tug on his hair, and he looked up. Lafayette was grinning down at him, looking at him like he was something worth looking at, and the expression on his face the way his eyes sparkled, made John’s knees weak. 

Just friends. Just. Friends. 

He tilted his head back, tried to look nonchalant, and there was a breath’s worth of hesitation. Then Lafayette’s lips were on his, so soft he could cry from it. It lasted just a moment, and Laf pulled away, not far, their foreheads still touching. “Is this alright?” he said, and he was so close that John tasted the words as they left his mouth, and this time he swallowed back his tears. 

“God yes,” he whispered back, parted his lips for more. The second time their mouths touched he was ready for it, he brought his arms up to wrap around Lafayette’s neck, to hold him close while they kissed. He parted his lips for Lafayette’s tongue, went weak from how he licked into his mouth. 

They kissed for a while. Long enough John got dizzy, his neck ached from being tilted back. Being kissed like this had John reeling. All of Lafayette’s attention stayed on his mouth, his kissing was so skilled, so perfect, the possibilities of his focus elsewhere… John just kissed back harder. 

When they finally broke apart, Lafayette refused to let him go completely. John wished for a few inches of space, lest the physical evidence of his...interest be noticed. It was downright embarrassing to be this aroused from just kissing. 

“When can I see you?” Lafayette asked, and for what felt like the hundredth time that night John felt knocked off his feet. He beat back the urge to ask Laf to take him home right that instant, reminded himself that kissing and the holding was good, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Tomorrow?” John suggested. 

“Tomorrow as in Saturday which is today because it is past midnight? Or tomorrow as in Sunday, since it is Saturday now?”

John laughed. How long had they been kissing? “Tomorrow as in, go home, go to sleep, and when you wake up, text me.” 

Lafayette smiled again, pecked a quick kiss on his lips. “It may be hard for me to sleep tonight, mon petite. After this.” And John’s knees buckled, god his voice was so low and perfect and his lips were right there, would it be so bad to just stay here all night? 

He stepped back, picked the rag back up. He had to be strong. “Text me in the morning?” He hung the towel, went to go collect his keys and his jacket, but Lafayette followed him, grabbed at his hand. 

“It is already tomorrow. Let me walk you to the subway?” 

Still in disbelief over his luck, and this wild turn of events, John smiled and nodded. Perhaps they would fit in a bit more kissing as they walked half the block.


	2. Chapter 2

John awoke the next morning to his phone chiming, well before his usual wake up time of noon. Lifting his head off the pillow, he glared at the screen through the curtain of curls draped over his face. 

**Lafayette:** It is tomorrow morning :D

 **Lafayette:** When can I see you?

Tingles raced through John as memories of the previous night flooded his brain. Laf hugging him. Holding his hand. Kissing him. Lots of kissing. Even the blush on his cheeks couldn’t chase away the smile he wore. 

He dashed off a quick text, asking Lafayette if they could meet up for coffee. As soon as he received back a “Yes!” followed by a string of heart and smiley emojis, John rolled out of bed to shower and try and tame his hair. It took him longer than he’d ever admit to settle on an outfit: a fitted v-neck in soft lilac and his favorite worn in camel colored corduroys. He ended up leaving his hair down, liking the way it dried after his shower. 

The coffee shop they agreed on was about a ten minute walk from his apartment, and John felt grateful for the mild morning temperature. The perfect time to clear his head, ground himself. He didn’t want to appear too nervous. For god’s sake, they had already kissed. They knew each other well enough, this shouldn’t be so hard. 

Lafayette stood outside the coffee shop, this time in a light wash skinny jean and a gray and black baseball t-shirt, looking for all the world as handsome and carefree as possible. As always, when he saw, Laf, his heart hitched and his breath caught. He managed to tamp down his anxiety, trot up to greet him. 

“Hey,” said John. 

“Good morning!” Lafayette chirped, and pulled John into a hug, kissed his cheek. “Oh, you look so lovely this early in the morning! This color is exquisite.” He plucked at the sleeve of John’s shirt. 

“Oh, you think this is good, you should see me even earlier,” John replied, meaning to sound self-deprecating and silly, but it came out way more suggestive than he intended and he immediately regretted it and felt the flush over his cheeks. 

“Perhaps sometime soon, I shall,” Lafayette remarked, looking both lascivious and delighted. John’s blush deepened, but he allowed Laf to grab his hand, lead him into the coffee shop. 

Over steaming mugs of chai tea latte (Lafayette’s) and white chocolate mocha (John’s) they chatted about normal date type stuff, work, friends, home, life. John found it easier and easier to relax in Lafayette’s presence. Laf was free with his laughter, liberal with his flirtations and generous with his affection. By the end of the hour, John was feeling so at ease, it was like they had been dating for for weeks instead of less than a day. 

***

John could hardly contain the spring in his step as he waltzed into Schuyler’s early Saturday evening. After coffee, John mentioned he had a few errands to run, and Lafayette happily tagged along, pushing his cart in Target, insisting on lugging the bags on the subway, helping him schlep the parcels up the two flights of stairs at John’s apartment building. The bags of paper towels, candles, boxes of Annie’s mac and cheese, and dish soap sat forgotten by his front door while they kissed on the couch for what felt like hours, before finally breaking apart so they could grab an early dinner (sushi). 

Now, watching Lafayette set up his mic stand and sound equipment, John felt like they were sharing a secret. A wonderful secret, one that made his heart sing and his belly feel like it was full of warm soup. God, he loved his job, nothing better than getting to pour drinks while watching his incredibly gorgeous paramour all night. He would get to stare for hours at him, hours and hours of looking at the most beautiful man in the world, while just counting down the minutes until they could kiss again--

“Earth to John Laurens.” Alexander’s voice cut through his reverie. “Did you even hear what I said?”

 

John rolled his eyes, but still couldn’t stop smiling. “Nope sorry. What’s up?”

Alex rolled his eyes right back, but he also looked...well Alex always looked as if he hadn’t slept in a month could use a good square meal, but he looked more buoyant than John had ever seen him. “I asked you if Lee gave you any shit last night.”

“Yeah, but it was nothing,” John said. “You look...happy.”

Alex sighed wistfully, leaned against the counter. “I am, Jacky L, I am.” He stared off in the distance all preoccupied, and John fought down a laugh. 

“I thought you were sick,” John pointed out. “You gonna tell me what went down last night?” 

Alex twitched his eyebrows and smirked. “Look, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, but I did have a nice little evening with a certain someone, and I do believe she is falling for the classic Hamilton charm, if I do say so myself.” 

“God, I can’t stand you sometimes,” John said. His eyes narrowed. “Wait. Did you take out Eliza?”

Alex’s said nothing, just smiled wider. 

“You are an absolute moron, Ham. I already told you, it’s against the rules! It’s like you’re a walking textbook example of reverse psychology, you hear the word ‘no’ and do the exact opposite!” 

“You see, Laurens, when a love as pure and passionate as ours comes along, rules are but tiny little lightening bugs, just...blinking in the dark, nothing of consequence. They are there, but they are harmless. Nothing. Not in the face of our love. Of course, I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand…”

“Ok, first of all, your metaphor makes no sense whatsoever. Secondly, and why not, because I’m gay I don’t get your big dumb love story?”

Alex continued to grin at him, looking maddeningly superior. “No, because you’ve spent the last however long you’ve been here eye fucking Lafayette and not even daring to make a move.”

John folded his arms, glared at Alex. “Is that so? Ok, then. So why did we make out right where you’re standing last night, go for coffee this morning, then spend the day together?”

Listening to John, Alex’s mouth fell open in disbelief, which he quickly rearranged into a smile. “Aw, man, really? Shit, I’m so happy and proud of you, dude. Also, Eliza owes me ten bucks.” When he read the confused look on John’s face, he continued. “She said you two wouldn’t hook up before Christmas. Ha!” 

“I really hate you sometimes,” John sighed, but went back to tidying the bar, still smiling. Caught Laf looking their way, and he gave a little wave, his heart thumping when Lafayette blew him a kiss back. “And we haven’t ‘hooked up,’ we kissed and hung out some. Nothing...nothing more than that.”

“Yeah, I figured you were walking too well to have gotten fucked in the last twenty-four hours, especially by him. Dude’s gotta be packing, what, with how tall he his and how tight his-- Okay I’ll shut up,” Alex finished, correctly reading the mortified look on John’s face. 

John prayed Laf couldn’t see how hard he was blushing or have heard Alex’s little speech, so he just rearranged his utensils for the twelfth time, avoiding looking at either of them. 

“Ya know, I do have to say this though,” Alex said, coming up behind him. “You are a filthy, stinking hypocrite.”

“How so?” 

Alex put on a fake southern drawl. “Oh, Alex, don’t date Eliza! It’s against the ruuuuules. But I’ll be over here, getting cozy with my coworker, don’t mind me!”

“It’s completely different,” John scoffed. “Something tells me Schuyler ain’t gonna get bent outta shape about two of his seasoned employees dating. One of his brand new workers, however, lusting after daughter dearest is a bit different…”

“Lusting? Lusting?! I already told you, our love is pure and perfect, and once her father sees that…”

John tuned Alex out. Lafayette had just went to reach for something on a high shelf, and the way his shirt rode up was way more interesting than anything Hamilton had to say at the moment. 

*** 

In the few weeks of their courtship, John learned a few things about Lafayette beyond the fact that he was a great kisser. Like in his apartment, he had a small army of succulents, each in their own pot that was painstakingly painted and labeled with a name. His two favorite genres of music were hip hop and French love ballads. His degree was in international business, but he was completely happy with his job at Schuyler’s. And he loved food, loved to eat, and brunch was one of his favorite meals.

Which is why John found himself every Sunday morning at a different spot. This Sunday was no different, another place with great yelp reviews, a “locally sourced, fresh, slow food dining experience.” Sadly, the menu lacked any fried chicken dish, which John’s Southern heart found lamentable, but it was easy to forget snuggled under Lafayette’s arm in the booth. He knew they were being one of those annoying couples that sat on the same side of the table but he really didn’t care. 

“John? Laf?” John looked up from where he was studying the menu. Right in the front of their table stood Eliza, looking fresh as a daisy in a mint green dress and grey sweater tights, holding hands with Alexander, who looked like he just rolled out of bed. John wrinkled his nose, but Lafayette greeted them enthusiastically. 

“Good morning, my friends! Oh, Eliza, you look absolutely breathtaking! What a treat to see the two of you outside of work!”

“Right?” said Eliza. 

“Come on, lovebug,” said Alex, tugging on her hand and ignoring the look John gave him over the pet name. “They’re getting our table ready.”

But Eliza and Lafayette had already somehow silently communicated, and the hostess offered them the other side of their booth, and Laf was excitedly making room at the table, Eliza set down her purse, and then they were all seated, Alex glaring at John like this was his fault. He wanted to tell Alex he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be sharing his cozy date, either, but they might as well make the most of it. 

Lafayette and Eliza made easy conversation about work, Alex chiming in now in then. John was still a little off balance from having what little private time he had with Lafayette infringed upon, and stayed pretty quiet, picking at the cranberry scone he took from the pastry basket. 

“You seem awful quiet,” Alex observed. Sipped his coffee.

“Do I?” John said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m surprised you know what quiet is, Hamilton.”

“Geeze, Laf,” Alex teased. “When you gonna lay this boy? He clearly needs it.” Eliza whapped him on the shoulder. The air at the table suddenly turned icy, and Laf drew himself up straight. 

“I am not understanding your meaning?” He said coolly, and John tensed next to him. 

“Ah, you know, cuz John is all...and clearly…” Alex sighed as the rest of the table glared at him. “It was a joke.”

“And not a very funny one,” Lafayette snapped. “I would not expect that someone of your particular level of sophistication would understand the intricacies of the relationship between myself and my dearest, Laurens. To reduce such a connection to something as crass as merely getting laid, well, I hope for Eliza’s sake you are indeed...just joking.” 

The silence that settled over the table was broken by Eliza laughing, her hands covering her face. “I’m sorry,” she crowed as Alex grumbled under his breath. “But will someone ask the waitress for some jam, because Alex you just got toasted.”

Then they were all laughing, and Lafayette squeezed John’s hand under the table. Their food was delivered shortly, and John figured he might survive the rest of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a chapter. Should be up later this evening! Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

After brunch, Alex and Eliza went their own way, so John and Lafayette walked arm-in-arm with no particular destination. 

“Well, we can go see a movie, or walk in the park, maybe the art museum....” Lafayette suggested, looking to see if John perked to any of his suggestions. 

“Honestly, I just want you to take me home,” John said softly. 

“Oh, are you tired? Not feeling well? Did Alexander upset you, or me? I can walk you there, or if perhaps you would rather be alone--”

John stopped walking, tugged at Laf’s arm so he’d look at him. “You misunderstand, honey. I want _you_. To _take_ me _home_.” 

Lafayette stared down at him, puzzling through his words and trying to read his face. John almost giggled, he looked so cute when he was thinking, Laf rarely became even close to flustered. 

“Oh,” he finally said. “Ohhh.” He squinted at John, took him in fully. “Is this about what Alexander said at brunch? Because I will have you know, my darling, that I am feeling fine about the sex, do not want you to feel pressured.”

“It’s not what Alex said. At all. But like...I’m…” John swallowed back his nervousness, concentrated on Lafayette’s huge brown eyes, watching him kindly. “I’m ready.” And as he said it, he knew it to be true. Lafayette standing up for him like that not only made him feel special, and defended, and wanted, it was also hot as hell to see him take Hamilton down a peg. No, the storm had brewing in him for quite some time, and now it was at the breaking point.

He was ready.

“I mean, of course...if you’ll have me…” John said, suddenly anxious maybe he’d crossed a line.

Instead, Lafayette smiled down at him, touched his face gently. “If you are ready, of course, I mean...I have waited.” Ran a thumb over his lips, his eyes darkening. “You have been worth the wait.”

John tugged his hand, pulled him in the direction of his apartment. 

***  
First times were usually awkward, from the moment they stepped through his door, his Lafayette’s arms around him and lips on his, John knew there could be nothing more right, nothing better. 

And while first times were always frightening, and in the daylight there was nowhere to hide, sunshine spilling through his windows and flooding every room. Oh, but the sun had perks, he realized, when after kissing for a half hour, Lafayette shrugged off his shirt and John’s eyes just about fell out of his head. Sunlight was kind to Laf, made him glow warm, practically sparkled in it. John ran his hands everywhere he could reach, suddenly ravenous for him. 

Laf got naked first, slipped out of his pants and lay on John’s couch, under him, panting and pretty in his magenta colored briefs, which John peeled off as soon as he could. Could there be anything more thrilling than being curled in Lafayette’s lap, kissing him until the sun changed color in the room and evening approached? 

Then Laf was whispering “Bed?” in his ear and John nodded eagerly, the invitation he was waiting for, even in his own home. Laf scooped him up, cradled him close so they could still kiss while he carried him back to where John’s bedroom lay. Lafayette’s kisses were sweet enough to distract John from worrying about the state of his bedroom, the stray clothing on the floor and his unmade bed. They lay down together, closer than close, Lafayette beautiful and naked and stretched out before him like a feast.

Lafayette. Naked. In his bed. 

Hardly time to even consider it, Lafayette pulled his shirt over his head, now they could lay chest to chest, kissing so much John thought he might pass out from dehydration. Lafayette’s hands on his stomach, his hips, pushing down his jeans, grabbing his ass, all while kissing him. He gave John’s lips a break, brought his mouth to John’s neck, his shoulder. Kissed each patch of freckles he found, his thumbs grazing John’s nipples, palming his pecs. 

When John couldn’t take it anymore, he pushed his own boxers down, stared in fascination at the sight of their dicks pressed together. Had to squeeze his eyes shut when Laf took them in hand together, stroked them as one, his head spinning. Fuck. 

Laf’s lips at his ear, fingers combing through his hair. “Tell me what you want, my love, tell me; I will give you anything…” and John reached into his bedside table, fished out the lube and a condom, shoved them into Lafayette’s hands. 

He was so exquisitely careful, it was almost frustrating. Two fingers, eyes locked, slow slow slow and arm wrapped around his waist. Lips on his cheek, voice in his ear. “Alright? Alright bébé?” and John nodded, moaned to show his appreciation, but was struggling to stay grounded with Lafayette’s long fingers inside him. Then three, more kissing, kissing until the world ended. John’s hand took over where Laf’s left off, he liked the look of his fingers wrapped around their lengths. 

“Ready, want you,” John said against Lafayette’s mouth, tore open the condom wrapper himself. They both watched in silence as nimble fingers rolled the condom over Lafayette’s length, a tense moment where John genuinely worried it might not fit, but then the thing was snug at the base, he kissed Lafayette once more and rolled over onto his stomach. 

Lafayette covered his back with his body, kissed his shoulder, smoothed his hair. Said something soft in French, and John looked over at him, saw his face so soft and trusting he asked Laf to repeat himself, this time in English.

“Not like so,” he said, and hitched John up by his hips, slotted their bodies together, spooning, John’s back to his chest. “Like this. I hold you like this,” and John nodded, felt his hair brush Laf’s bare skin, and he closed his eyes again. Lafayette’s fingers again, three, feeling him from this angle, and John wanted to bat his hand away, he was ready, wanted to really feel him, feel him move.

Once he slid himself inside John, Lafayette gave himself over completely to his mother tongue, spoke in soft, breathy French right up against his ear. One arm scooped up underneath, John, holding him close so his free hand could roam, could touch each curve of his body before settling on his cock. John whimpered, pushed back against him, cried out of for it, but Lafayette just cupped him, offered very little friction, just enough to have him panting. 

Lafayette switched back to English. “We make love like this, then after, I will suck you, yes?” and John let out a guttural cry of agreement, hissed “god, yes,” and they moved together, John meeting him with each roll of his hips. It was delicious torture, Lafayette behind him, inside him, around him, all over him, and John felt the tears collect in his eyes. Overwhelmed. 

Then Lafayette’s lips were on his, and it was everything. 

***

Monday night. Work again. Waking up next to Laf that morning had been a thrill in itself, showering together, making lunch. When they walked in together, Alex’s face lit up, but he said nothing, not until Lafayette was out of earshot.

“Finally get some, Jacky L?” he teased. When John said nothing, Alex whooped. “I can tell.”

“My walk?” John snapped. 

“No,” Alex said, sounding wounded, and John turned to him. “I was gonna say cuz of your smile.”

“Yeah?” He glanced over to where Lafayette was setting up, and they caught eachothers’ eyes, and both of them grinned. 

“Yeah,” Alex said. “That smile.”

John smiled his whole shift.


End file.
